Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Catholic Women, College, and Contraception
I was talking to a single Catholic man at a dance Saturday night who lamented that the young women he knows graduate from Texas A & M already engaged or wed. It occurred to me that such situations probably encourage contraception, which is still a sin, even though most Catholics don't hear much about it from the pulpit. With new degree in hand, I would think that most young women would want to embark on a career in order to get some return on their investment of time and money.
Alternatively, they get the degree, work, and then look for a husband only to find that the prospects are few. The lucky ones marry but find their chances of raising a large family greatly diminished.
The same pro-contraception situation occurs when a woman marries a man who is not finished with his education, and she must work.
I think this is why the Church offers the vocation of the single life. The first purpose of marriage is procreation, so women who desire careers are probably better suited to the single life.
The funny thing to me is this: the young man I was talking to and his Catholic men friends all wanted to know where Emma wants to go to college and were puzzled when she said that she doesn't want to go. I wonder if this is a knee-jerk reaction from the influence of our culture or if it is something that they have truly thought through in the light of Catholic teaching?
I have thought for a long time that the incessant pushing by the media of the importance of saving money for your children's education is a back-door method of discouraging large families. If you welcome all the children that God sends you, it is unlikely that you could save enough for them all to attend college.
I am not anti-education for women whose vocation is the married life. I think a liberal arts education greatly enhances a woman's preparation for being a help-meet and mother. I don't think college is required to get it, though, and I have a B. A. from Auburn University. I would trade it without regret for a baby for each of the years I spent getting it and working!
Alternatively, they get the degree, work, and then look for a husband only to find that the prospects are few. The lucky ones marry but find their chances of raising a large family greatly diminished.
The same pro-contraception situation occurs when a woman marries a man who is not finished with his education, and she must work.
I think this is why the Church offers the vocation of the single life. The first purpose of marriage is procreation, so women who desire careers are probably better suited to the single life.
The funny thing to me is this: the young man I was talking to and his Catholic men friends all wanted to know where Emma wants to go to college and were puzzled when she said that she doesn't want to go. I wonder if this is a knee-jerk reaction from the influence of our culture or if it is something that they have truly thought through in the light of Catholic teaching?
I have thought for a long time that the incessant pushing by the media of the importance of saving money for your children's education is a back-door method of discouraging large families. If you welcome all the children that God sends you, it is unlikely that you could save enough for them all to attend college.
I am not anti-education for women whose vocation is the married life. I think a liberal arts education greatly enhances a woman's preparation for being a help-meet and mother. I don't think college is required to get it, though, and I have a B. A. from Auburn University. I would trade it without regret for a baby for each of the years I spent getting it and working!
Monday, March 30, 2009
My Shelfari Book Case
I don't know if anyone really notices, but I have not updated my Shelfari in more than a month. It seems to take too much time, and so I put it off. We are still reading, though.
I can't hope to remember everything that Emma has read and/or listened to in that stretch of time, but I will try to get the highlights from her and update the list soon. She and I are reading a lot of the same things (Mexican Martyrdom, The Great Conversation) so her list will help me remember my own. I may go back to just making a plain list and forget the Shelfari deal, even though it looks good.
I can't hope to remember everything that Emma has read and/or listened to in that stretch of time, but I will try to get the highlights from her and update the list soon. She and I are reading a lot of the same things (Mexican Martyrdom, The Great Conversation) so her list will help me remember my own. I may go back to just making a plain list and forget the Shelfari deal, even though it looks good.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Mother Hen
Emma has been reading all of the flying magazines that Herb has been getting. Consequently, she has fallen in love with ultralight airplanes and plans to own one as soon as she can. There are only two obstacles: her dad says "no", and she doesn't have the money. She has decided that the best approach is to earn the money first, then patiently present her research to her dad showing that ultralight technology has improved dramatically, and they are now safe. That's the plan anyway. If he still says "no", she'll have a nice nest egg for something else.My mother has contracted for Emma's weekly maid services. Emma plans to earn the rest of the money by selling eggs, rabbits, and milk if I will finance half the expense of a cow. She also wants to raise Bantam Aracaunas. So at the Laetare Sunday dinner, she traded Mickey a dozen of our eggs for a dozen of his hopefully-fertilized Bantam Aracauna eggs. She dragged out our incubator, cleaned and sterilized it and studied the direction booklet. It was not much help. Actually, it was rather disturbing. It has a long list of things that can go wrong and the causes: mushy chicks, soft chicks, exploders, etc. The editors didn't bother to explain the difference between a mushy chick and a soft chick. Nor did they deem it necessary to tell whether a mushy or soft chick is dead or alive. Details, details.
Temperature is, naturally, one of the critical factors, so Emma has been diligently checking the temperature inside the brooder with two or three different thermometers and doing internet research on embryology. At least once a day she retreats to her "candling" room (our half bath) to check the eggs with a flashlight for signs of life.
In the midst of all her concern for her "babies", Mickey texted me to tell me that one of his hens just hatched eight chicks. Naturally, Emma was a little discouraged that he should reap all of these benefits with so little effort, but he has offered her the mother and the chicks. That smoothed everything over! She'll bring them home today after Mass. . .if she can catch them.
Mickey's birds are wild.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Laetare Sunday Dinner Theatre
Last Sunday night we attended our parish's annual Laetare Sunday Dinner Theatre. Herb's mom and dad are visiting, so Herb's mom went with me, Nathaniel, and Emma. Herb and his dad planned their own evening of steak and an action movie.
The dinner theatre was in our parish hall. It was fabulous as usual. The play was adapted from Tuna, personalized to our parish with a lot of funny one-liners. One of them involved an essay contest in which a real life mother of 14 was said to have written an essay titled, "Birth of a Nation". The audience roared and so did the mom and her family, who were sitting right behind me.
The food was catered, and every dish was hot and flavorful. Teen girls from our parish did an excellent job waiting tables. It was an occasion for Emma to dress up from head to toe in thrift store bargains. . .
and for Nathaniel to cut up with our friend Mickey.
.
Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of the rest of our friends at our table, except the backs of their heads: Anselm and his parents and grandmother. The grandmother just moved here this month from Louisiana. Emma had visited with her after Mass that morning and had fallen in love with her, so she was delighted when Grandmother K. chose to sit by her. Emma told me later that as she sat down, Grandmother K said playfully, "I'm going to sit by Little Miss Glamour."
The dinner theatre was in our parish hall. It was fabulous as usual. The play was adapted from Tuna, personalized to our parish with a lot of funny one-liners. One of them involved an essay contest in which a real life mother of 14 was said to have written an essay titled, "Birth of a Nation". The audience roared and so did the mom and her family, who were sitting right behind me.
The food was catered, and every dish was hot and flavorful. Teen girls from our parish did an excellent job waiting tables. It was an occasion for Emma to dress up from head to toe in thrift store bargains. . .
and for Nathaniel to cut up with our friend Mickey.
.Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of the rest of our friends at our table, except the backs of their heads: Anselm and his parents and grandmother. The grandmother just moved here this month from Louisiana. Emma had visited with her after Mass that morning and had fallen in love with her, so she was delighted when Grandmother K. chose to sit by her. Emma told me later that as she sat down, Grandmother K said playfully, "I'm going to sit by Little Miss Glamour."
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Memories of St. Joseph's Altar
How I miss belonging to a parish that celebrates St. Joseph's Day with a a St. Joseph's Altar!
When we lived in Vinton, LA, the Catholic Daughters, most of them grandmas, did a St. Joseph's Altar every year. I joined them soon after we moved there, and these ladies were so welcoming to me and my children. Nathaniel and Emma were probably 7 and 6 at the time, but the dear Catholic Daughters always found meaningful ways that they could help. The children loved it.
The Catholic Daughters also cooked a meatless spaghetti supper for the parish on St. Joseph's Day and delivered all the altar food to the poor the next day. It was quite an operation.
One year the Lake Charles paper wanted to do a story on our altar. They, naturally, wanted to run it on St. Joseph's Day, so another young mom and I volunteered to do all the traditional baking and set up a small altar for the photo shoot. Neither one of us had ever baked any of these items, and we both had small children, but we were willing.
For direction we had photocopies of hand-written directions and some really dark black-and-white photos. We gathered all our ingredients at my house and plunged in. It took us the whole day, but we managed it. I even made the traditional monstrance and fish out of bread dough and fig filling. We made St. Joseph's staff, two cornucopias and I can't remember what all out of bread dough. Then we set it all up at the church, decorated it with candles, flowers, and religious statues and pictures. It looked fabulous to us, though it was nothing compared to the real one, which was much larger and more elaborate.
One thing we didn't try to make was the lamb cakes. One elderly lady baked and donated two adorable lamb cakes to the altar each year. Everyone loved them and looked forward to seeing them on the altar. One year, there was some kind of disaster, and one of the lambs not only broke in the middle, it crumbled. I took on the challenge of repairing him. I ended up using a vanilla Twinkie to fill in the wound and slathering some canned frosting over the patch. Luckily, replenishing the shredded coconut "wool" covered it all over nicely.
Many years have passed since we participated in a St. Joseph's Altar, but it is one of the happiest of memories for me and my children. I don't know if it is still available, but if you can find one, I recommend St. Joseph Altars, a gorgeous book loaded with pictures and recipes. It was published by Pelican Publishing Company with photography and text by Kerri McCaffety.
St. Joseph pray for us!
When we lived in Vinton, LA, the Catholic Daughters, most of them grandmas, did a St. Joseph's Altar every year. I joined them soon after we moved there, and these ladies were so welcoming to me and my children. Nathaniel and Emma were probably 7 and 6 at the time, but the dear Catholic Daughters always found meaningful ways that they could help. The children loved it.
The Catholic Daughters also cooked a meatless spaghetti supper for the parish on St. Joseph's Day and delivered all the altar food to the poor the next day. It was quite an operation.
One year the Lake Charles paper wanted to do a story on our altar. They, naturally, wanted to run it on St. Joseph's Day, so another young mom and I volunteered to do all the traditional baking and set up a small altar for the photo shoot. Neither one of us had ever baked any of these items, and we both had small children, but we were willing.
For direction we had photocopies of hand-written directions and some really dark black-and-white photos. We gathered all our ingredients at my house and plunged in. It took us the whole day, but we managed it. I even made the traditional monstrance and fish out of bread dough and fig filling. We made St. Joseph's staff, two cornucopias and I can't remember what all out of bread dough. Then we set it all up at the church, decorated it with candles, flowers, and religious statues and pictures. It looked fabulous to us, though it was nothing compared to the real one, which was much larger and more elaborate.
One thing we didn't try to make was the lamb cakes. One elderly lady baked and donated two adorable lamb cakes to the altar each year. Everyone loved them and looked forward to seeing them on the altar. One year, there was some kind of disaster, and one of the lambs not only broke in the middle, it crumbled. I took on the challenge of repairing him. I ended up using a vanilla Twinkie to fill in the wound and slathering some canned frosting over the patch. Luckily, replenishing the shredded coconut "wool" covered it all over nicely.
Many years have passed since we participated in a St. Joseph's Altar, but it is one of the happiest of memories for me and my children. I don't know if it is still available, but if you can find one, I recommend St. Joseph Altars, a gorgeous book loaded with pictures and recipes. It was published by Pelican Publishing Company with photography and text by Kerri McCaffety.
St. Joseph pray for us!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The Death of the West and the Williamson Affair
The biggest shock to me about the hoopla surrounding Bishop Williamson's "holocaust denial" was the revelation that it is actually against the law in Germany to voice such opinions. My respect for Germany immediately decreased. To outlaw discussion about the numbers of people killed during the Holocaust seems like the behavior of a spoiled child to me, a child in the midst of a tantrum, stamping its foot and shrieking.
I was reminded of this again on Sunday night as I read the The Great Conversation by Robert M. Hutchins. It is the first volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica's Great Books of the Western World series, first published in 1952. Each book was selected on the basis of its ability to further the "Great Conversation" of Western civilization. Mr. Hutchins says:
The tradition of the West is embodied in the Great Conversation that began in the dawn of history and that continues to the present day. Whatever the merits of other civilizations in other respects, no civilization is like that of the West in this respect. No other civilization can claim that its defining characteristic is a dialogue of this sort. No dialogue in any other civilization can compare with that of the West in the number of great works of the mind that have contributed to this dialogue. The goal toward which Western society moves is the Civilization of the Dialogue. The spirit of Western civilization is the spirit of inquiry. Its dominant element is the Logos. Nothing is to remain undiscussed. Everybody is to speak his mind. No proposition is to be left unexamined. (emphasis mine) The exchange of ideas is held to be the path to the realization of the potentialities of the race.
"Nothing is to remain undiscussed." I pondered this thought for a long time, thinking how differently Bishop Williamson would have been treated if the West still believed it.
Then I was drawn back to this sentence: "Its dominant element is the Logos."
The Logos, the Word. Though I doubt that this was the meaning that Mr. Hutchins intended, I was reminded of the Last Gospel.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men; and the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.
Western civilization has rejected the "dominant element", her life force--rejected the light. And so she descends into darkness and death.
I was reminded of this again on Sunday night as I read the The Great Conversation by Robert M. Hutchins. It is the first volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica's Great Books of the Western World series, first published in 1952. Each book was selected on the basis of its ability to further the "Great Conversation" of Western civilization. Mr. Hutchins says:
The tradition of the West is embodied in the Great Conversation that began in the dawn of history and that continues to the present day. Whatever the merits of other civilizations in other respects, no civilization is like that of the West in this respect. No other civilization can claim that its defining characteristic is a dialogue of this sort. No dialogue in any other civilization can compare with that of the West in the number of great works of the mind that have contributed to this dialogue. The goal toward which Western society moves is the Civilization of the Dialogue. The spirit of Western civilization is the spirit of inquiry. Its dominant element is the Logos. Nothing is to remain undiscussed. Everybody is to speak his mind. No proposition is to be left unexamined. (emphasis mine) The exchange of ideas is held to be the path to the realization of the potentialities of the race.
"Nothing is to remain undiscussed." I pondered this thought for a long time, thinking how differently Bishop Williamson would have been treated if the West still believed it.
Then I was drawn back to this sentence: "Its dominant element is the Logos."
The Logos, the Word. Though I doubt that this was the meaning that Mr. Hutchins intended, I was reminded of the Last Gospel.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men; and the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.
Western civilization has rejected the "dominant element", her life force--rejected the light. And so she descends into darkness and death.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Wearing of the Green/Irish Oatmeal Bread
This morning as Emma and I walked, she taught me the words to the first verse of "The Wearing of the Green", a song from the Irish Rebellion of 1798. For background, read Wikipedia's "Irish Rebellion of 1798" and Penal Laws in Ireland at Tea at Trianon. Here are the complete lyrics:
Oh! Paddy, dear, and did you hear
The news that's going round,
The shamrock is forbid by law
To grow on Irish ground.
Saint Patrick's Day no more we'll keep
His color can't be seen
For there's a bloody law agin'
The wearing of the green.
I met with Napper Tandy
And he took me by the hand
And he said "How's poor old Ireland?
And how does she stand?"
She's the most distressful country
That ever you have seen,
They're hanging men and women there
For wearing of the green.
Then since the color we must wear
Is England's cruel red
Sure Ireland's sons will n'er forget
The blood that they have shed.
You may take the shamrock from your hat
And cast it on the sod,
But 'twill take root and flourish still
Tho' underfoot 'tis trod.
When the law can stop the blades of grass
From growing as they grow,
And when the leaves in summer time
Their verdure dare not show,
Then I will change the color
I wear in my caubeen,
But till that day I'll stick for aye
To wearing of the green.
But if at last our color should
Be torn from Ireland's heart,
Her sons with shame and sorrow
From the dear old sod will part.
I've heard a whisper of a country
That lives far beyond the say,
Where rich and poor stand equal
In the light of freedom's day.
Oh, Erin! Must we lave you,
Driven by the tyrant's hand?
Must we ask a mother's welcome
From a strange but happy land?
Where the cruel cross of England's thralldom
Never shall be seen
And where in peace we'll live and die
A-wearing of the green.
After our walk, Emma baked a loaf of Irish Oatmeal Bread to take to a St. Patrick's Day tea at the home of some friends. She added pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, and dried cherries to the recipe. It made a hearty, tasty loaf, and it was still warm when we got to our friends' home. Emma took her Irish music, and the girls sang a lot of Irish tunes after they had their tea. Here's the recipe for the bread:
3 cups flour
1 1/2 tablespoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups oats
1/2 cup raisins (optional)
1 egg
1/4 honey
1 1/2 cups milk
1 tablespoon melted butter
Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Add oats and raisins, if using. Beat egg lightly, then add honey and milk and beat until well-blended. Add dry ingredients and stir just until all is moistened. Turn into greased 9" X 5" loaf pan. Brush top of loaf with melted butter and bake at 350 for 1 hour to 1 hour and 15 minutes. Makes 1 large loaf.
Next time, Emma wants to try increasing the honey and the oats.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Eggs Benedict
Nathaniel renders brotherly assistance to his beloved little sister as she and Anna sniff the seasoning on the veggies.Monday afternoon my friend Gayle used one of the newer Julia Child cookbooks to teach Anna, Nathaniel, and Emma how to make Eggs Benedict. They roasted a mixture of potatoes, sweet potatoes, and carrots as a side dish.
The most interesting part to me was poaching the eggs. I've only done it in a pan designed for the purpose. Julia said to just drop them into boiling water. Ours was thoroughly seasoned, so the eggs looked off-color when they were removed. This didn't matter in the end because they could be covered with a lovely, light Hollandaise sauce. The cooks struggled with the sauce, thinking that it was too lemony, but it was perfect once its flavor was blended with the stacked egg, ham, tomato, cheese, and English muffin. It was delicious. I look forward to serving it the next time I have my lady friends over for brunch. Unfortunately I forgot to take a picture of the finished product. I was too busy thinking about eating it.
My mom came down and watched for a little while and got a back rub from Nathaniel.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Dressing Appropriately is a Courtesy
We attended a choir concert at a local university last week. It featured three choirs: a men's chorus, a women's chorus, and a concert women's chorus. The quality of the singing and directing in all three was high, but one aspect of the performance disturbed me.
The women's chorus apparently had no dress code other than "black". Young women in every kind of black attire paraded out on the stage and across the risers to their places. One wore a mini skirt with tights that featured an array of splotches all over them. Another wore a long skirt, but the "waist" only came up to her hips, and her top did not go below her navel. Some had plunging necklines; some wore tight pants. Their apparel was such a distraction that it took away from my enjoyment of their singing.
On the other hand, the men's chorus wore black tuxes. What a difference! Immediately my expectations were higher; I relaxed and thought about the music. I enjoyed their singing so much more.
The women's concert choir was also dressed uniformly and modestly. They all wore long black gowns. Again, it was a relief.
So why the difference with the women's chorus? I don't know. It was not fair to the women's chorus members or to the audience for the young women to be dressed individually. A basic choir robe would have been a vast improvement.
The women's chorus apparently had no dress code other than "black". Young women in every kind of black attire paraded out on the stage and across the risers to their places. One wore a mini skirt with tights that featured an array of splotches all over them. Another wore a long skirt, but the "waist" only came up to her hips, and her top did not go below her navel. Some had plunging necklines; some wore tight pants. Their apparel was such a distraction that it took away from my enjoyment of their singing.
On the other hand, the men's chorus wore black tuxes. What a difference! Immediately my expectations were higher; I relaxed and thought about the music. I enjoyed their singing so much more.
The women's concert choir was also dressed uniformly and modestly. They all wore long black gowns. Again, it was a relief.
So why the difference with the women's chorus? I don't know. It was not fair to the women's chorus members or to the audience for the young women to be dressed individually. A basic choir robe would have been a vast improvement.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Life With Emma
"You two have a lot of fun walking," a senior lady commented to me the other day as Emma and I finished our 2 1/2 mile rhythm walking session at the community center.
It kind of took me by surprise, but she was right. We walk around a big room with a bunch of retired people for 45 minutes to a medley of old songs like "Beautiful Dreamer", "In the Good Old Summertime," and "Buffalo Gals". Emma and I love all these songs. Every 1/4 mile is announced, and then a little bell rings and everybody reverses direction. Emma and I clasp hands and swing our arms. Sometimes she takes off skipping for a while or she dashes out the door and runs around the parking lot and through the front door before rejoining me in the circle. If it's not too crowded she works in a few ballet leaps. And we sing.
As we sat in the lobby to drink some water after the walk, Emma told me how wonderful homeschooling is--for the parents. She explained how they can start out "normal", but grow and change into "homeschool moms" because they are constantly learning new things and looking for good experiences for their children.
"I've been thinking and figuring out a whole lot of things lately," she confided. "And there's a whole lot of things I've thought about and figured out that I haven't even told you yet!"
Oh, my! I'm not sure how to prepare for these revelations.
Later we were doing some shopping, and Emma and I were witnesses to a crime. We didn't know we were at the time, though, and so I paid absolutely no attention. When the crime was discovered, the manager asked us if we could provide a description of the perpetrator. I could not. Emma said that she could, so I agreed for her to be interviewed by the police. I was floored by the detail that she gave: hair color and style, height, weight, clothes and accessories, physical peculiarities. She told everything she knew very slowly and carefully. She took it seriously, and so did I. But the last thing she told the officer sent me howling with laughter into the other room:
"And she had bad grammar," Emma pronounced solemnly.
It kind of took me by surprise, but she was right. We walk around a big room with a bunch of retired people for 45 minutes to a medley of old songs like "Beautiful Dreamer", "In the Good Old Summertime," and "Buffalo Gals". Emma and I love all these songs. Every 1/4 mile is announced, and then a little bell rings and everybody reverses direction. Emma and I clasp hands and swing our arms. Sometimes she takes off skipping for a while or she dashes out the door and runs around the parking lot and through the front door before rejoining me in the circle. If it's not too crowded she works in a few ballet leaps. And we sing.
As we sat in the lobby to drink some water after the walk, Emma told me how wonderful homeschooling is--for the parents. She explained how they can start out "normal", but grow and change into "homeschool moms" because they are constantly learning new things and looking for good experiences for their children.
"I've been thinking and figuring out a whole lot of things lately," she confided. "And there's a whole lot of things I've thought about and figured out that I haven't even told you yet!"
Oh, my! I'm not sure how to prepare for these revelations.
Later we were doing some shopping, and Emma and I were witnesses to a crime. We didn't know we were at the time, though, and so I paid absolutely no attention. When the crime was discovered, the manager asked us if we could provide a description of the perpetrator. I could not. Emma said that she could, so I agreed for her to be interviewed by the police. I was floored by the detail that she gave: hair color and style, height, weight, clothes and accessories, physical peculiarities. She told everything she knew very slowly and carefully. She took it seriously, and so did I. But the last thing she told the officer sent me howling with laughter into the other room:
"And she had bad grammar," Emma pronounced solemnly.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Preparing the Soil of Your Cabbage Patch
I just stumbled upon this great article on how to improve fertility through diet. I was surprised to find such an article on the Times Online site. They probably only intended it for women who had been contracepting for twenty years and now want one baby. Whatever their intent, it is useful information for all women. Teens especially will benefit, because they can make necessary changes before they marry. However, only adults should read past Step 4.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Serious Scientist Has Great Sense of Humor
Wanting to read science news that has not been filtered through the media, last year I subscribed to Access to Energy, a newsletter published and edited by Dr. Arthur B. Robinson, President and Research Professor of the Oregon Institute of Science and Medicine. I am not an avid science reader, so I have been delighted to discover that in between the heavy science information there is usually a dose of comic relief to help me through.
In an article titled "Demographics," from the Vol. 35, no. 6 issue, Dr. Robinson explains that the "required ratio of children to women for population stability is 2.1--the 0.1 allowing for pre-reproductive mortality."
The United States is now at 2.1., he says, but that is because of Mexicans and blacks. Dr. Robinson says that white Americans reproduce at a rate below the minimum required for population stability.
Obviously, the situation is bleak. Instead of depressing the reader further, Dr. Robinson gives us this paragraph:
"On the list of jobs Mexican-American immigrants do that many other Americans are unwilling to do is having children. Most of these immigrants have not attended liberal American universities--which may explain their remaining interest in basic human values."
He closes the article with this clincher:
"On an optimistic note, however, two influential groups within the United States of comparable population size are home schoolers and liberal academics. Home schoolers have a reproductive ratio of about 3.5, while liberal academics--for which I do not have an authoritative number--appear to be far less than 1.0. At 4 to 1 relative reproductive rates--and the lower rate far below replacement, which group will ultimately prevail?"
In the Vol. 35, no. 8 issue, Dr. Robinson wrote an article entitled "Wolves", in which he says that he and his family have raised sheep on their Oregon farm for 28 years. They are now looking at the end of their sheep business because government-placed and government-protected wolves are killing several sheep a night. The wolves cannot be disturbed, much-less killed--even in self-defense--without the risk of incurring a large fine and jail time. It is a felony offense. In the midst of this sad story, Dr. Robinson interjects this:
"Wolves, of course, are only introduced into rural areas--where they can kill livestock and rural residents, who are a minority voting block. Wolves should also be introduced into downtown Washington, D.C., and Portland and Salem, Oregon."
What a howl!
Despite my enjoyment of his humor, I want to emphasize that Dr. Robinson is a serious scientist, and the topics he covers in Access to Energy are important. For sample newsletters, see the left sidebar on the Access to Energy website. Subscriptions are $35 per year. Order from: Access to Energy, Box 1250, Cave Junction, OR 97253.
In an article titled "Demographics," from the Vol. 35, no. 6 issue, Dr. Robinson explains that the "required ratio of children to women for population stability is 2.1--the 0.1 allowing for pre-reproductive mortality."
The United States is now at 2.1., he says, but that is because of Mexicans and blacks. Dr. Robinson says that white Americans reproduce at a rate below the minimum required for population stability.
Obviously, the situation is bleak. Instead of depressing the reader further, Dr. Robinson gives us this paragraph:
"On the list of jobs Mexican-American immigrants do that many other Americans are unwilling to do is having children. Most of these immigrants have not attended liberal American universities--which may explain their remaining interest in basic human values."
He closes the article with this clincher:
"On an optimistic note, however, two influential groups within the United States of comparable population size are home schoolers and liberal academics. Home schoolers have a reproductive ratio of about 3.5, while liberal academics--for which I do not have an authoritative number--appear to be far less than 1.0. At 4 to 1 relative reproductive rates--and the lower rate far below replacement, which group will ultimately prevail?"
In the Vol. 35, no. 8 issue, Dr. Robinson wrote an article entitled "Wolves", in which he says that he and his family have raised sheep on their Oregon farm for 28 years. They are now looking at the end of their sheep business because government-placed and government-protected wolves are killing several sheep a night. The wolves cannot be disturbed, much-less killed--even in self-defense--without the risk of incurring a large fine and jail time. It is a felony offense. In the midst of this sad story, Dr. Robinson interjects this:
"Wolves, of course, are only introduced into rural areas--where they can kill livestock and rural residents, who are a minority voting block. Wolves should also be introduced into downtown Washington, D.C., and Portland and Salem, Oregon."
What a howl!
Despite my enjoyment of his humor, I want to emphasize that Dr. Robinson is a serious scientist, and the topics he covers in Access to Energy are important. For sample newsletters, see the left sidebar on the Access to Energy website. Subscriptions are $35 per year. Order from: Access to Energy, Box 1250, Cave Junction, OR 97253.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)